


Home

by PortalPanda



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26785813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalPanda/pseuds/PortalPanda
Summary: Tron returns to the ENCOM system after the events of Legacy.
Relationships: Ram (Tron) & Tron, Tron/Yori (Tron)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 28





	Home

“You have some options,” Alan-One says, and Tron knows the words are meant to be reassuring but the effect is lost as the User paces. 

Tron paces when he’s anxious. Now he knows where he gets it from. 

Tron watches his User wearily, defensive but mostly tired. There’s something defeated in the slump of the program’s shoulders, the way he’s curled in on himself, that tells Sam he doesn’t care what they do with him. 

But of course Alan does. 

Sam watched for hours while Alan made meticulous repairs to Tron’s code. Initially he wasn’t sure how well Alan would take the whole ‘programs are actually sentient beings who look and act a lot like people’ thing, but Alan treated Tron like a person from the moment they found him-- a person he cared quite a lot about. Sam filled him in on the basics of the program’s past while they waited for him to reboot, and Alan was (understandably) appalled to hear the things he’s been through. Now he’s determined to give Tron some say in what happens next. 

“You’re welcome to stay here if you want,” Alan says, a little too hurriedly. (Sam recognizes his ‘calm the troubled kid who wants to fall off the face of the earth’ voice, complete with matching expression.) “We won’t force you to go anywhere you don’t want to. But you’re the only program left on the Grid, and I hate the idea of you staying here all alone while we’re gone. Especially with the time difference.” 

Alan stops pacing as he shares a look with Sam. Hesitates. 

“... We could bring you to the User world.” 

Tron notes that Sam Flynn was not informed of this option; he and the User flinch in the same instant. Sam flinches again when Rinzler’s rattling purr starts up, soft and startled at first, then louder and annoyed. The program ducks his head, examines the ground rather than looking at either of the Users. 

He can’t quite process what’s just been said. Joining the Users in their world holds too many implications he does not understand. Tron isn’t entirely sure the Users understand them, either.

Alan-One is more focused on the logistics. 

“I should warn you that I’m not sure it would work, and if it did, it might be… unpleasant. Considering your injuries.” 

Tron can hear the frown in his User’s voice, along with something like regret. He pulls his legs closer to his chest. Makes himself smaller. 

“I did the best I could for now, but I’d intended to make more edits in the future-- with your permission. There was a lot of damage. I don’t know how that would manifest outside of some kind of computer system.”

Which means that Tron is trapped here. There are two options, and the second is not viable. 

“Which leaves the ENCOM system.”

Tron looks up without meaning to. Alan tries not to smile.

“We could transfer you back there, if you’d like. It probably looks a little different than the last time you were there, but it’s still up and running, as busy as ever. There are lots of other programs there. You wouldn’t be alone. I have access to that system-- we could still communicate, and I could make more updates and repairs to your code. And if you were to change your mind about staying there, we could bring you back to this system once we decide what to do with it,” Alan says, gaze flickering to Sam. “But the decision is yours.”

Tron unfolds a little. 

His best cycles on the Grid do not compare to his best on the ENCOM system. Even when Flynn was present, when Clu still planned cities instead of destroying them-- even when this world was new, and beautiful, and  _ safe--  _ it was empty. Absent of his User. Separate from his counterpart. And the only thing that may be worse than failing an entire world is being tasked with protecting one where he never once felt like he belonged; fighting for it and agonizing over it anyway. 

Tron belongs at ENCOM, but he’s not sure he deserves to return there. The idea that he can go home to Yori after so many hundreds of (nightmare filled) cycles seems unreal, and yet, his User has offered it. It’s certainly a better choice than staying in an empty system, or attempting to enter yet another world where he isn’t meant to exist.

Tron looks up at his User.

“I think… I would like to return to the ENCOM system.”

“I like that option, too.” Alan-One smiles, but there’s a nervous edge to it. “Being transferred isn’t unpleasant, I hope?”

Tron shakes his head. From what he remembers, it’s a little like being held in stasis. Everything was dark, and no time seemed to pass. That kind of blankness is appealing now. He appreciates his User’s concern, though. 

“Alright then,” Alan nods. “We’ll leave the Grid now, and move you out. Then I’ll bring you to ENCOM and give you some time to settle in while I work on another update. Does that sound okay?”

Tron nods. If he didn’t hate the word so much, he might say it sounded perfect.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Tron reboots in the ENCOM system, circuits flooded with [ _ safe _ ]. The feeling is strange, partially because it is achieved so quickly and without a single scan. Something deep in his code knows he was  _ meant  _ to exist here, in this place that holds so much color and light.

He’s in an alcove in one of the more specialized I/O towers, where new programs and the occasional transfers are rezzed in. Pink lights line the sleek, off-white walls, and Tron’s reflection looks back at him, though neither of their gazes linger. He was created in a place like this. For some reason the thought is comforting.

Better yet, Clu and Dyson have never set foot in this world. No ISOs spawned here— died here. There was no purge, no innocent programs stripped of their identities forever. Everything is… normal.

There’s no one close by, but Tron can hear the quiet voices of older programs welcoming new ones to the system. How long has it been since he was around programs who were free to simply talk and laugh? He knows he should move-- there are things to see, and do-- but he wants to stay still and soak in the calm.

The lights on the walls brighten, as do his own. It takes Tron far longer than it should to realize why.

“ _ Tron? Are you there? Is everything alright? _ ”

“Confirm, Alan-One.” Tron blinks at the warmth and the light. He’s surprised to find himself smiling. “Thank you.”

_ “You’re welcome.”  _ Tron suspects his User is smiling. There's something soft in his voice. _ “Take it easy, program. Let me know if you need anything.” _

Alan-One’s presence fades, and Tron is both touched and troubled. The idea of a program making requests of a User is… unsettling. Still, he’s happy to follow his User’s first request. Tron leans against the wall and closes his eyes, taking a micro to enjoy the peace. 

He jolts to attention at the sound of code shattering. 

The tower guardian is staring at him, mouth agape. His apparition startled her into dropping the vial of energy she’d been holding; its shards lie at her feet. She ignores them, bobbing her head in what might be a bow. 

“Tron.” He doesn’t like the way she says his name, as if she’s said it a thousand times before. “You’ve returned to us. Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” He copies her nod, then finds something fascinating on the floor. “Excuse me.”

Tron walks quickly, but does not run. What’s there to run from in a place where the Users dwell? Outside, though, he's welcome to run as far as he likes. That’s what he plans to do the nano he exits the tower ( _ where  _ he’ll run to, he doesn’t know), but he finds himself frozen instead, numb with nostalgia.

The sky is a gradient of soft color, so unlike the darkness of the Grid. I/O towers and their signals are sharp against the horizon, evidence of Users and programs communicating as they should. ( _ There’s  _ something that makes him feel a little better-- this system is still free from the last time  _ he  _ freed it.) And in this system, where the Users are far more present in the way they are  _ supposed  _ to be, structures exist in imperfect patterns, as they would in a city that was not planned. The buildings do not stand in uniform lines. In the distance the ground curves and slopes, does not lie flat. Light-lines wind across every surface in every color as far as the eye can see, fading from one shade to the next. Such beautiful imperfection.

“ _ Tron _ .” 

He turns at the sound of his name, whisper-soft, and finds that a crowd is beginning to form behind him. Tron doesn’t recognize any of these programs, but they look up at him in awe. Something in his core sinks; the urge to run returns. These programs only see him as a  _ symbol _ \-- some sort of figure instead of a person. They don’t know him, and he doesn’t deserve their admiration. 

They don't know that, either.

It strikes him then that no one here ever has to know about his failures. No one has to know about Clu or the ISOs-- Rinzler. That he was chosen by Flynn to protect a new world, and failed so terribly that  _ nothing  _ was left. No one here will know about any of it, unless  _ he  _ _tells them_. The thought is somehow freeing and crushing simultaneously. 

He’d thought that nothing could be worse than being alone, but he may have been wrong. He feels far more isolated in this crowd of strangers than he did as the last program on the Grid.

There’s a clear solution to that, though; Tron needs to find Yori. His core lightens at the thought.

He’d hoped it would be easy. The two of them were together for hundreds of cycles before Tron left for Flynn’s system. Yori was his linked counterpart. But Tron realizes (with great distress) that he’s lost the ability to contact her. He reaches for the connection they once shared only to find that it’s  _ gone _ . The emptiness in its place is overwhelming-- a yawning void where there once was warmth and light. Yori’s absence felt the same on the Grid, but Tron assumed that was only because she wasn’t present on that system. … Surely she isn’t—

No.

It’s okay. It’s fine. He isn’t going to panic. 

Tron remembers the location of Yori’s workstation, and their quarters. He’s a System Monitor for Users’ sake-- he can find her the old fashioned way. He’s not going to have a meltdown because he can’t ping her.

In the meantime, the crowd behind Tron has grown to the point of blocking him in. He’ll have to do something about that.

[ _ Move aside programs _ ] he pings, firm but not unkind, and they part to let him pass. Out of respect, he assures himself, and not fear. 

He can still feel them watching him as he leaves them behind.

Tron is under constant observation from the programs around him as he wanders the winding corridors of the ENCOM system. His light-lines are different from theirs (he still wears the broad circuits of Flynn’s Grid) but the insignia on his chest is the same as when he was rezzed. Other programs know who he is-- which means they have expectations about who and what he is  _ supposed  _ to be. No matter how stressed or anxious Tron becomes, no matter how much they gawk or stare, he can’t snap at the other Basics. He can’t show impatience or weakness of any kind in front of them. 

Which becomes increasingly difficult when he looks everywhere he can think that Yori might be and he  _ can’t find her _ . 

Tron doesn’t panic when she isn’t at her old work station. Programs receive updates all the time-- systems are constantly changing, rearranging. (He’ll never admit it, but he got lost more than once on the way here.) In the time he’s been gone, Yori could easily have been given a new job in another part of the system. Really, he should have expected as much.

The fact that Tron no longer has access to their quarters hits him quite a bit harder. In fact, it stuns him badly enough that he tries the door more than once. After three attempts (and a nano to steel himself) he trades the angry buzz  of an alarm for the chime of an access request. The familiarity of the sound is comforting until it stretches for too long, unanswered.

Tron wants to sink into the ground. He feels the gaze of two programs as they pass, hears one of them squeak out his name. Stands rigid.

Did Yori take away his access after he was gone for so long? Has she replaced him? Does she still live here? Is she still…? 

A rattling purr grates in Tron’s throat. He holds his breath to keep the sound from escaping.

(He will not taint this system. He will not.)

The problem isn’t just that he can’t find Yori, it’s that he can’t find so much as a  _ trace  _ of her. He’s scanned for her energy signature the entire time he’s wandered the system (he remembers that much, at least) without finding  _ anything _ . Either she’s changed that much, or he’s that damaged, or--

Yori was in danger of being derezzed the last time Tron saw her. Her User was leaving, the project she was part of was being decommissioned, and yet she refused to come with him to the new system. No matter how Tron begged, Yori insisted she belonged here. She said she couldn’t explain it, but she felt she had a purpose to fulfill on this system. No matter what would happen to her, she needed to stay. 

Flynn promised Tron that he would do everything within his power to prevent Yori’s deletion-- which is hardly reassuring when Tron remembers all the things that were not within Flynn’s power. 

There’s a secluded corridor off the residential area. It’s small and dark, the entrance to a maintenance area, meant to go unnoticed. Tron slides to the ground in the shadows, and rests his head on his knees.

He can’t find Yori. He isn’t sure he wants her to see him like this but  _ he can’t find her _ and he needs to know that she’s safe.  _ Alan-One _ ,  _ Lora-Prime _ , tell him he didn’t leave her here to derez alone in favor of a world that no longer exists. Make these programs stop looking at him like he’s some kind of hero when he  _ isn’t _ anymore. He’s a villain. He should never have left this place and he should not have come back here. If Yori is gone there is no place for him in any system or the User world. He deserves to be alone but he’s been alone for so long and he doesn’t _want_ to be and someone help him please— someone  _ help help help help help  _ **_Yori_ ** **\--**

“Tron?”

The voice is not Yori’s, but it is familiar. Tron’s systems inform him, rather unhelpfully, that it should be impossible for him to hear this voice, as its owner is derezzed. 

“Ram?” Tron chokes.

His friend kneels next to him, circuits bright and  _ alive _ . Either Tron has fried something during transfer, or he’s the only ghost present. 

“Hey, buddy. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Ram’s hand on his shoulder, along with a scan and pings of [ _ comfort/safe _ ] shatter what’s left of Tron’s composure. 

“Ram!” The word is a sob, and before he can respond Tron has him in a crushing hug. “How--” he starts, and then his voice glitches to the point that he can no longer speak.

“ _ Easy _ , program.” It’s strange to hear concern in a voice Tron remembers as being filled with mischief. Ram returns his embrace, patting him on the back a little too hard. Somehow that’s more comforting. 

He rambles for a bit while Tron clears his system (he has a new directive-- he’s a hacker now. Maybe Tron can teach him about fighting and he can teach Tron about stealth. He hopes security programs and hacking programs can still be friends; he wouldn’t want to ruin Tron’s reputation. If Tron is worried about the system being different, he shouldn’t be. There are a lot of great new programs here. He can introduce Tron to some of the new friends he’s made over the cycles. Speaking of friends, did Tron know that their Users were friends? What were the odds? Actually, would he like to know the odds?), and waits until he’s calm to answer his question.

“My User recompiled me about a thousand cycles ago, but by the time I came back  _ you  _ were gone. Off on some grand adventure with Flynn, or so I was told.” Ram pulls back enough to see Tron’s face, and offers a soft smile. “It’s good to see you again. Not so good to see me, though, huh? I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

For the first time since he can remember, Tron laughs.

“Are you kidding? I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see another program in my entire runtime.”

Ram snorts.

“Well it won’t last, but thanks anyway.”

Tron starts to ask what he means by that, but someone else beats him to it.

“ _ Ram _ ,” Yori starts, in her why-did-you-bother-me-while-I-was-working voice, “What’s so important that you pinged me  _ over a hundred _ \--” 

Her voice glitches into nothing when she sees Tron. The expression on her face is priceless, filled with more emotions than Ram can name, and Tron’s is nearly identical.

[ _ I accept your apology _ ] Ram informs her, which makes it an even 110 pings. He releases Tron just in time to avoid being tackled. 

_ “Tron!” _

Ram smothers a smile behind his hand as the pair reunites. Of course he’s heard that they were adorable together (and Users know he’s listened to the two of them gush about each other enough over the cycles), but hearing them laugh as they nearly tumble backwards, seeing their circuits flare a brilliant blue when Tron catches Yori is different-- far sweeter than any story. 

The height difference between them is pretty cute too. Yori tucks her smaller frame against Tron’s, nuzzles the crook of his neck, and practically disappears when he wraps his arms around her. Ram will always think of Tron as a fierce warrior, but he hardly looks intimidating as he clings to Yori as if he’ll derez without her. 

[ _ Yori _ ] Tron pings, overjoyed, but his voice is gone again. She doesn’t mind.

After a micro Ram joins their embrace, and Tron isn’t sure if Yori gestured him over or if he simply decided he wanted another hug. They accommodate him, regardless. 

Tron is grateful that Ram found him first. He’s much more calm now, though Yori feels a tremor run through his frame as a strange rumbling starts in his throat. She strokes one of the light-lines on his arm, pinging [ _ safe/comfort _ ], and Tron curls closer in response.

They don’t ask what happened to make him upset. They don’t ask why he’s back. They only seem to care that he's here. 

“Let it out, program. It’s alright.”

“You’re safe now, Tron. You’re home.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one took way longer than it should have. It's supposed to be a one shot, but there might be more. Let me know if you have suggestions if you'd like to see more.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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